


You Don't Say

by iolanthe_rosa



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iolanthe_rosa/pseuds/iolanthe_rosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reading between the lines.  All the articles, photos, and interviews referenced in this story exist. For copyright reasons, I didn’t use exact quotes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Say

“Well, that was…confusing,” said Dom, putting down a large manila envelope. He was sitting cross-legged on a coffee table, surrounded by clippings and torn magazine pages. Elijah was reclining on the sofa, absorbed in a script. They had kindled a fire in the fireplace, and were enjoying a quiet evening at home.

 “Hmm?” Elijah answered, only half-listening.

 “I was just going through this clippings folder from your publicist.”

 Elijah looked up. “Oh. Just throw that in the fire. I never look at that crap.” He returned to his script.

 “Well, I just looked at it, and I found some rather interesting ‘crap.’”

 “I doubt it.” Elijah responded, still not paying full attention. “Popcorn?” he asked, offering the bowl without looking up.

 “No thanks. Really, Lij, I’m confused.”

 “Confused,” Elijah repeated absently. “Uh huh.”

 Dom picked up a piece of paper from the table and shook it impatiently. “Yes, confused. You want to know why? Here’s an example: you say here that you got that ring,” he pointed at the ring on Elijah’s right hand, “from Franka Potente.”

 Elijah looked up, his face reddening.

 Satisfied now that he had Elijah’s full attention, Dom continued, holding up another clipping. “But you say here that you bought it for yourself.”

 Elijah shifted a bit on the sofa.

 “So which is it? Did Franka give it to you, or did you buy it yourself?”

 Elijah remained silent. Dom raised his eyebrows. Finally, Elijah said in a low voice, “You know how I got this ring, Dom.”

 “Well, I thought I did. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe it was all some strange dream.”

 Elijah started to answer, but Dom interrupted him, “And what about this?” He picked up another piece of paper and waved it in front of Elijah. “In this article, you deny ever having dated Franka, but what’s this here?” he produced a photograph and brandished it close to Elijah’s face, “If I’m not mistaken, this is a picture of you with your hand up Fraulein Potente’s ass crack. Is it not?” Dom waited for Elijah to answer, but Elijah buried his face in his hands and moaned.

 Dom did not let Elijah’s obvious pain stop him. “Yes, it’s true! You claim never to have dated this woman. And yet, you didn’t shove your hand up my ass until our 17th date, and even then I had to beg you for it.”

 Elijah smiled, the tension easing slightly “You do have a nice ass.”

Dom was in no mood for a subject change, however. “We’re not talking about my ass right now, Lij. We’re talking about how you seem to remember things differently from how I remember them. For instance, I have no recollection of this.”

 Dom unfolded a large page from a tabloid, cleared his throat and read: “‘Frodo’s Appendix Bursts!’ then it quotes you saying,” (at this point Dom assumed his best high-pitched, American-accented Elijah-voice:) “‘It’s pretty boring here in the hospital, but my sister visits me every day and that helps.’”

 Dom put the paper back down. “It’s funny, because the way I remember it, Hannah was already at school in New York when you had your appendix out. And – I could be wrong, mind you; I am quite a bit older than yourself, and one’s memory does begin to fade – but I thought,” he continued, “I was the one who visited you every day when you were in hospital. In fact, I have a memory of a particularly thorough sponge bath…” his voice trailed off.

 Elijah smiled, “Yeah, I remember that, too.”

 “Ah, so it wasn’t just me. Good. I’m sure Hannah would have visited you if she could have. It wasn’t until I read through these articles, though, that I really understood why you would make the mistake of thinking it was Hannah who visited you and gave you sponge baths.

 “I didn’t say anything about Hannah giving me sponge baths!” Elijah protested.

 “You didn’t? Then how do you explain this?” He reached down onto the table and picked up another tabloid page, this one featuring a picture of Elijah and Hannah smoking together, captioned, “Elijah Wood and girlfriend; at least one important thing in common.” Dom paused for effect. “I knew you two were close, but not that close.”

 With a strangled cry, Elijah grabbed the page from Dom and looked at it, wide-eyed. “Oh my God! That’s sick!”

 “So you two aren’t together? I have to admit, I’m an open-minded bloke, but I’m a bit relieved.”

 Elijah leaned forward and put his head between his knees. Dom patted his back sympathetically.

 “It’s okay, Lij. Maybe the press got the wrong impression. Because you’re so private. You do seem to like to keep them guessing.”

 He sorted through the clips and pulled out several, reading bits and pieces from each in turn: “’Elijah Wood, Man of Mystery.’ We’re definitely uncovering some mysteries tonight, eh, Lij? Here’s another one: ‘Wood guards his privacy jealously; he’s not part of the Hollywood scene.’ That’s true anyway. Oh, and here’s my favorite: ‘When asked about his girlfriend status, Wood replied, ‘I like women.’”

 “Well that’s all true!” Elijah cried defiantly. “I do like women! And I *am* a private person!!”

“Private, are you? Is this what you mean by private!” Dom triumphed, picking up another article and waving it in the air. Resuming his Elijah voice, he read: “‘One of my testicles is larger than the other.’”

 Elijah threw his head back. “Oh, come on!” he cried.

 “Is that what you call ‘jealously guarding your privacy’? Or don’t you think your boys deserve the same privacy as your cock? Seems like, when it comes to your cock, it’s a state secret where it goes when it’s out and about. But the relative sizes of your bollocks, well, that’s okay, then!”

 Dom was enjoying himself thoroughly.

 “Can we please stop now?” Elijah begged.

 “Just one more thing.”

 “One more thing?” Elijah repeated weakly.

 “Yeah. Right here.” Dom picked up an article and read, “Although young, Wood says he has had his heart broken. ‘Oh yeah,’ Wood says, ‘I was shattered. Moped around for weeks.’”

 This time, Dom was truly curious. “You’ve had your heart broken? Is that true?” He looked searchingly at Elijah.

 “Yes, it’s true.”

 Dom felt a little hurt that Elijah had never confided in him about this. “When?”

 Elijah hesitated for a moment. His expression fell, and he appeared to be reliving the pain of the memory. “Remember when I was trying out for that musical?” he asked.

 “Yes.” How could he forget? Elijah had taken voice lessons to prepare, and the memory of him walking around the house singing, “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly?” was a memory Dom wished he could forget. But he couldn’t think how that had anything do with Elijah breaking his heart. “So?” he prompted.

 “Well, when I didn’t get the part, I was heartbroken.”

 Dom was listening attentively, waiting for Elijah to go on. He waited a long time. “Yes, and?”

 “And nothing. That was it.”

 “That was your big heartbreak?”

 “Uh huh. The reporter didn’t say it had to be heartbreak over another person.”

 Dom looked at Elijah. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat of the fire and a piece of popcorn had somehow become caught in his hair. Suddenly, Dom didn’t feel like teasing him anymore. He climbed down from the table and joined him on the sofa.

No sooner had Dom gotten comfortable, than Elijah got up and carefully picked up every piece of paper from the coffee table. He walked to the fireplace and dropped them, one by one, into the flames. Then, for good measure, he took the envelope they had been kept in and threw it in after them. The flames leapt up, glowed white, then died back down. With a satisfied sigh, Elijah returned to the sofa and lay down, his head on Dom’s lap.

Elijah held up his right hand. He and Dom watched the firelight flicker across the Hebrew words engraved on his ring. “And if not now, when?”

 Elijah sighed. “I wish I could tell them where I got this,” he said.

 “Me too, Lij.”

 “But we know, don’t we, Dom?”

 “We do,” Dom said. “And I’ll bet some of the people who read those articles do, too.”

 “Why?”

 Dom took Elijah’s hand, his larger one enveloping it and covering the ring. “Because they know it’s not about what you say in those articles.” He brought Elijah’s hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. “It’s about what you don’t say.”


End file.
